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FAKING IT ONCE AGAIN
The strange birth of an anomalous bifurcation in the vicinity is subjugation of my metaphysical ennui and languor which is inexorable and gradually falling prey to its own gravity, thus rendering my subconscious cluttered with all pain and misery of leaving the destination in oblivion just before starting the journey.ffice
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May be it’s a surreptitious escape plan conspired under the canopy of the darkness inhabiting me, which straddles across both worlds. Spontaneity does not necessarily give way to serendipity, but defying the monologous rule of exceptions by proving this enigma undecipherable to the human soul, the daftness is surmounting the alter ego.
Transition leads to definition of the unknown. Quirk of fate renounces the perceived integrity of self, which is nothing but a shroud of mist waiting for sun to shine.
This highly galvanised doctrine leads me to contemplate on several facets of waxing parallelism in domains of our life with insensible interest.
Disputes concerning the time when we all relinquish our lives to the name of identity , which is merely a verbal discourse in the domain of mortality suggest strongly towards the enervation of our parts by the whole, though it feign a superficially conceivable principle of unity as the support.
This sceptical doubt both with respect to rationality and religion is a malady which can never be cured radically and we will relapsing into it inevitably and routinely.
My capacity to cerebrate is inadvertently susceptible to carelessness and inattention to fathom the hidden order, therefore it can afford me any remedy in the wake of my “subconsciously induced” active inertia.
On the crossroad of two extremes- where limitations are throbbing in the nascent heart and where actualisation of fabricating a “life after life” is being cultivated- my degree of confusion is as forked as the “Magic Roundabout”.
Treading on this path is all about living a life which is on wane and never ceases to define its salience…. I will attribute all my questions to my faith one day, which will make me believe everything unheard and unseen and will take me to the place where several moons are interwoven on the periphery and hearts live forever.
A view to a dream
THE CONTINUATION OF THE DREAM fficeffice" />
The most probabilistic explanation dwells into several realms of intellectual daftness and none of the perceived knowledge can deceive its eventuality. I am going to wait and watch the repercussions with my eyes wide open to appreciate it as it has been clear to me that inability infested subconscious is not applicable anymore to rationalize anything around me. Last time I remembered GOD, was induced by sheer selflessness and will always be the case unless and until I get rid of the mighty me. So far the time being elapsed in the search for my lost possessions is being overshadowed by my passion to glean other’s belongings which I never managed to justify but inadvertently followed to the limits. The quest seems to me endless and the cost is being paid by every breath I take. Solely motivated by personal gratification and lust - for a life which neither suits me nor meant to be like that – I am gradually surmounted by the aura of inherent evil which is thriving on my inertia and growing stronger with each passing day.
Thoughts on reason!
Reason is the slave of the passion, and reality is the reason to be passionate. Time leaves a trail of subjugated thoughts in the process of this life long continuum of ego sustenance which by no means reflect an inherent feature of reasoning abilities of human being. More often than not we misconceive it as our perception of the ambience and past recollection which is collectively called Experience. I put the onus on precursors of these thoughts which has largely been discussed and reviewed. fficeffice" />
Here comes the initial thought about drawing the parallel between two entirely separated yet mutually connected lives where all entities are interconnected but are inevitably oblivious to the fact that they are precursors to each other. Quite reluctantly I got myself convinced that frequency could be the saga that was brought back into a review frame by someone. Little aware was I of the effect that it would exert on my very being. The prelude was a bit hard to stomach but gradually the seriousness started surmounting my naïve apprehensions to the extent that I was literally immersed into the vastness of its repercussions in context of my own life and its so far Kafkaesque though patterns. It seemed to raffle off a bit of my self induced ignominies regarding parental hypothesis. It was hard to assume that in reality the synchronisation of frequencies doesn’t usually make this world a deliciously charming pantheon of happily lived lives. We are born here to live on scale of definite time length where any possibility of overlapping in terms of space and time is far from material feasibility and therefore it renders us to respect our past either because of its severity or its verdurity. Even in this presently thriving world of physical limitations we confront our boundaries very often as they are being tested by circumstances emanating from time-space union. More often than not we get exuberant sense of triumph over this deadlock - which slips off the fist beyond being recognised my human eyes - and the notion of supermanhood ramify the brain inarticulately yet blissfully. Nonetheless this human race still susceptible to be enchanted by paranormality. What we intend to ignore is the end result of its moribund yet archaic procrastination of self attainment which promises undoubtedly to set the soul free from all possible inhibitions. The very idea of totalitarianism accentuates this weakness of us and that leads to the genesis of dreams and imaginations. Narrowly speaking dreams are the curse of sleepiness and are characterised by lack of control over the chain of events but in with a broader point of view dreams can be said to presuppose great inventions that took place in the civilisation. My scepticism lurks over the thin line of separation between religion and science though at times both seem to overlap. I am not a disbeliever of practicality of spiritual faction of our personalities but I advocate a deeper understanding of the term “Practical” in this context. In my views practicality relates to every atom of the universe and that can be felt by looking at everything surrounding us but this practicality can’t be explained in terms of our limited scientific acumen. In modern terms it seems to straddle across understanding craft and admiring the craftsmanship. I term the former one science and the latter one religion. Material perceptions add to scientific explanation of this world thus give us the widely popular meaning of “Reality”. Ever wondered what would be the reality of an instance beyond event horizon? The answer lies in the fact that yardsticks of time and space are nonexistent and they don’t hold anything to be classified as past, present or future. This whole world is limited by myriad forces what is Newtonionly known as Gravity so inarguably it can’t harbour realism as reality would have been different under different circumstances while being controlled by less, more or no forces at all. This seriously casts doubts on the authenticity of our perceptions and leaves our “realism” as a product of feeble origin. Our inability to decipher the complexity of labyrinth of life around which events are weaved gives birth to an unquenchable desire of dictating our past. Scars from the old times remind us that past others present every time is utterly indifferent to our grudges and felicitations.
At this point I am feeling an insensible urge to dream the same despite having known the scarcity of sleep and felt fashionably surmounted by the influx of imagination. Little chief is a grown up boy but still can’t help himself crying in the hope of attaining resonance with the rhythm of divine harp being played by the creator. Frailties of my desires are far from being cured this sickness is praying to relapse into its juvenile depth of sleepings in shadow of my mother‘s arms. I just want to go back and if you grant me that sleep I promise not to wake up ever in my life.
The horrendous stasi act that shook the whole world!
East Germany's Ministry for State Security, known as the Stasi, featured probably the most comprehensive internal security operation of the Cold War. The Stasi built an astonishingly widespread network of informants -- researchers estimate that out of a population of 16 million, 400,000 people actively cooperated. The Stasi kept files on up to 6 million East German citizens -- one-third of the entire population.
The Stasi operated with broad power and remarkable attention to detail. All phone calls from the West were monitored, as was all mail. Similar surveillance was routine domestically. Every factory, social club and youth association was infiltrated; many East Germans were persuaded or blackmailed into informing on their own families.
The Stasi kept close tabs on all potential subversives. Stasi agents collected scent samples from people by wiping bits of cloth on objects they had touched. These samples were stored in airtight glass containers and special dogs were trained to track down the person's scent. The agency was authorized to conduct secret smear campaigns against anyone it judged to be a threat; this might include sending anonymous letters and making anonymous phone calls to blackmail the targeted person. Torture was an accepted method of getting information.
Stasi abuses led to protests in Leipzig that helped pave the way for the fall of the Berlin Wall. After reunification, many former Stasi agents were prosecuted. Today, any former Stasi domestic espionage officer is barred from police work in Berlin.